


Both Sides of the Sky

by rockymountainvixen



Category: Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Aristocracy, Captivity, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Fae & Fairies, Historical Accuracy what's that?, Hurt/Comfort, Magic, Mystery, Regency Romance, Romance, Slow Burn, Updated according to the movement of the stars and the whims of god, Villain Strickler, jlaire, self indulgent af
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-22
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2020-01-23 18:24:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18555292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockymountainvixen/pseuds/rockymountainvixen
Summary: Claire Nuñez only started courting Lord Strickler's son to appease their parents, not because she actually likes the timid, soft spoken boy. Despite herself, Claire soon becomes fast friends with Jim, and perhaps desires something more. Maybe marriage doesn't have to be so bad after all? However, as they grow closer, it becomes clear that Jim is in grave peril, and Claire is the only one who can help him. But if Claire wants to save the boy she loves, she may have to sacrifice her future with him.





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Salt of the Ocean](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17542796) by [im_the_king_of_the_ocean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_the_king_of_the_ocean/pseuds/im_the_king_of_the_ocean). 



It was a perfect summer day. Not a single cloud marred the robin’s egg blue of the sky. Claire watched the willow branches spin and sway in the breeze against the cerulean sky from her seat at the tree’s base. Part of her wanted to put down roots and stay there forever.

The sound of shouting and rustling informed her that the servants her parents had sent out to search for her had started looking outside.

She fisted her fingers in the fabric of her dress. Let them worry. It wasn’t like she cared.

It was her Governess, Lenora Janeth, that found her first. Claire pointedly kept her gaze fixed on the sky above as the older woman dashed around to her side of the tree. She heard Lenora gasp in shock, and from out of the corner of the eye Claire could see her puff herself up, ready to deliver another one of her long winded speeches about responsibility or a lack thereof.

But instead of giving the lecture Claire was expecting, Lenora let out a deep sigh and deflated “Claire….I’m sorry, I know this wasn’t the news you were hoping for,”

Lenora’s unexpected sympathy caught Claire off guard. Overwhelmed, she buried her face in her skirt, unwilling to show her tears.

Lenora sat down next to her, making no move to speak or to touch her, allowing Claire her dignity while she sobbed her heart out.

Claire didn’t know if they’d been sitting there for minutes for hours, but eventually something compelled her to speak up.

“It’s just….when Mom gave birth and they announced it was a boy, I was so happy….” she hiccupped out a sob “And then when they announced that I’m still the heir….”

The whole time her mother had been pregnant Claire had desperately pleaded with whatever forces were listening that the child would be a boy. And when the baby had been born and named, Enrique Nuñez, Claire had been beside herself with joy. Her parents had a male child that could take her place as heir of the Arcadia Abbey. Someone else would have to take lessons in language and business and history. Someone else would be bearing the full weight of their parents’ expectations.

And Claire would be free, free from all of it.

But then came the awful announcement this morning. The announcement her parents made that they were breaking tradition. Even though a male child was supposed to be ahead of their sisters’ in inheritance, regardless of age, Ophelia and Javier Nuñez had decided to defy convention. Their first born child, Claire Nuñez, would remain the heir of the estate.

Which meant that she would spend her days locked into monotonous routine. Every waking hour dedicated to bettering her family’s fortune and bettering herself as caretaker of it.

Claire would be both ruler and prisoner of the Arcadia Abbey until the day she died.

A fresh wave of sobs broke out of her, Lenora gingerly reached out and placed an arm around Claire’s shoulders, this time Claire welcomed the contact, leaning into Lenora’s embrace.

They stayed there for a while, Lenora rubbing Claire’s shoulders as the young girl cried. After some time Lenora spoke up “Claire, I know your parents put a lot on your shoulders, too much in my opinion,” she added in a rare display of insubordination “But think of it this way, nearly every young lady spends her girlhood flouncing around and enjoying themselves, but none of them ever grow into women that rule over the wealthiest estate in this side of the country,”

Claire raised her face, looking into Lenora’s sympathetic gaze “I know that must be precious little comfort to you, but try to think of your duties as a privilege rather than a burden,”

Claire sniffled and nodded.

“Do you want to spend a little more time here?”

“No I….” Claire wiped the remaining tears out of her eyes “I’m ready to go back,”

Lenora helped her to her feet and they headed back to the house. Claire looked down at the dirt smears and grass stains on her dress and winced. She was not looking forward to hearing another lecture on the proper cleanliness and presentation a young lady of her station must show.

It was probably just the shock of it all that had her so upset. Even as the Mistress of the Nuñez estate, her life wouldn’t be all work and no play. She would still have time to go to dances and operas and spend afternoons at the library or strolling around the city gardens.

Claire was just having a difficult day, that was all.

No sooner did they step inside than they were set upon by her mother.

“Oh Claire, there you are,” In a surprising turn of events, Ophelia didn’t criticize Claire’s filthy dress.

“I have exciting news,” she beamed at them “I’ve arranged for you to go for a morning walk tomorrow with Lord Strickler’s son, James,”

Claire felt her heart sink. It may have been her imagination, but she thought she saw Lenora wince.

If Ophelia noticed of her daughter’s crestfallen look she paid it no mind “We’ll leave first thing in the morning, your father and I will accompany you, but you and James should be able have plenty of time by yourselves to get to know each other,”

Claire felt her dread intensify with her mother’s every word. It was bad enough that she was still stuck in her role as the heir to the Arcadia Abbey, but her parents weren’t even waiting a month after the formal announcement before trying to arrange a marriage between her and suitable young man.

“I’ll….go to my rooms, to start getting ready for tomorrow,” Claire forced the words out and headed to her chambers, ignoring the sympathetic look Lenora flashed her on her way out.

First her lessons, then her inheritance, then being married off the the first young man that caught her parents’ fancy….

Who was Claire kidding, she was never going to be free from any of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alternative title: "I watched Northanger Abbey while reading TOA fanifiction and this is the end result"
> 
> This is my first foray into writing a romance focused story so updates will be sporadic while I do the research I need for this (Namely how the regency era worked and what people did all day)
> 
> This story was inspired by The Salt of the Ocean by imthekingoftheocean. Both Sides of the Sky will be similar to that story insofar as Strickler will be a full on villain with no redemption (Merlin will to but that's not as much of a stretch for most people). So if that's a deal breaker for anyone I'm letting you know right now.


	2. An Inauspicious Introduction

Claire tugged at the ribbons of her bonnet and tried not to look as grouchy as she felt. 

 

She, her parents, Lawrence and Lenora were waiting by the beginning of the path running by the river that ran past town. At any moment Lord Walter Strickler was supposed to arrive with his son, James Strickler, so that Claire and James could accompany each other on a _supervised_ stroll so that sparks would inevitably fly between them and in a few short months she could be introduced as Lady Strickler.

 

Claire tamped down the urge to fling her bonnet in the river. 

 

She didn’t want to be here. She did _not_ want to be here.

 

Part and parcel of being the heir of her parents’ estate was getting married and producing more heirs. Claire knew that, she’d known that for a long time. But no one was giving her space to _breathe_. To figure out what _she_ wanted the rest of her life to be like. If she wanted to spend it with anyone at all; much less some boy she’d never met. The formal announcement of her inheritance, meeting with a potential suitor, this was all happening so fast Claire’s head was spinning.

 

Anytime she stepped back and thought about all the responsibilities and duties that would be heaped upon her it felt like choking on sand.

 

The sound of a carriage approaching pulled Claire from her thoughts. As the carriage came to a stop two figures stepped out and made their way towards them.

 

“Oh, good,” her father was visibly relieved “I was starting to think that they wouldn’t come,”

 

“How fortunate,” Claire grumbled.

 

There were several more snide remarks she had in mind, but one stern look from her mother and she knew any further sauciness wouldn’t be tolerated. 

 

Claire recognized Lord Strickler striding briskly towards them, having met him before at one of Karl Ulh’s parties. The dark haired boy beside him was unfamiliar, but he couldn’t be anyone other than Strickler’s son. After greeting both of her parents, the tall, grey haired lord tipped his hat in Claire’s direction “The young Miss Nuñez, a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” 

 

She pasted on her most appropriate smile “The pleasure is all mine,”

 

Her parents had been absolutely over the moon to have their daughter courted by an actual _aristocrat_ , but up close Lord Strickler didn’t appear too terribly different from various gentry and landowners Claire had met, albeit in much finer clothes.

 

Strickler placed his hand on the shoulder of the boy beside him “Please allow me to introduce my son, James,”

 

James smiled in Claire’s direction “A pleasure to make your acquaintance Miss Nuñez,”

 

Knowing what was expected and keenly aware of both her parents and Lord Strickler’s eyes on them, Claire extended her hand and allowed James to kiss it “Likewise,”

 

While James had her hand Claire was able to get a better look at him. Skinny, black hair and blue eyes, dressed just as richly as Strickler. But whereas Strickler seemed right at home standing by the side of the forest dressed to the nines, something about the way James held himself seemed stiff, artificial even.

 

Dance of courtesy completed, James released her hand. Claire let it fall back to her side, resisting the urge to wipe it on her skirt.

 

“We will stay here and discuss business,” Javier smiled down at them “Why don’t you two get started on your walk,”

 

Claire’s gaze flicked from the adults back towards James. He had moved toward the start of the path, forearm held out expectantly.

 

Best to get this over with, the sooner Claire started the sooner she could be done.

 

Willing herself not to grimace, Claire laid her hand across his arm and they started down the worn dirt path. Lenora and Lawrence, their chaperones, followed at a distance where they could assure that nothing indecent happened between Claire and James, but far enough away that the two could speak without being overheard, provided they didn’t start shouting.

 

They trudged along in complete quiet, Claire gazed past the river and through the trees that stretched off into the distance, eyes unfocused, as they wound their way down the path at a snail’s pace.

 

“Lovely weather we’re having,”

 

It took Claire a little while to realize that James expected a reply “Yes, it is a lovely day,”

 

Silence stretched out between the two of them. 

 

“Have you…have you been to the seaside?”

 

“Yes, last summer, it was quite a pleasant trip,”

 

The conversation fell flat yet again, from the corner of her eye Claire could see James working his mouth, no doubt struggling to come up with another utterly unimaginative question to ask her.

 

Claire rolled her eyes, confident that James wouldn’t notice. The rigid way he held himself, his horribly bland attempts at conversation, did this boy have any personality of his own or had Strickler dressed up a wooden plank in fine clothes and started introducing it as his son? 

 

Still, she had to admit James was far more pleasant company than Seamus, who’s only redeeming quality had been that he was far less of a pompous, self satisfied oaf than his father.

 

But that didn’t mean Claire enjoyed being forced to spend time with him.

 

“Are there any instruments you enjoy playing?” James’s voice disrupted her musings.

 

Claire decided to glean whatever enjoyment she could from this forced outing “Actually yes, I have a harp made from human bones, whenever I play it flocks of ravens come down from the sky and peck anyone nearby to death,”

 

James jerked his head towards her, stunned into silence, his expression so horrified and utterly flabbergasted that she nearly laughed.

 

After a few seconds James looked away, seemingly giving up on his attempts to make conversation. He kept his eyes focused on the trees around them and away from Claire as they worked their way back to the carriages in silence.

 

Once their parents were in sight Claire detached herself from James and moved away from him as briskly as she could. Not even waiting for Lenora and Lawrence to catch up. Ophelia was upon her immediately “How was your walk?”

 

How was James was what she meant.

 

“The walk was...decent”

 

Javier came to stand at his wife’s side, briefly meeting her eyes before he speaking up in a gentle, cautious tone “How would you feel about doing this again next week?”

 

Claire took a deep breath, they had promised her that she just had to go on one walk with James and if she didn’t want to see him anymore they would be done, but it wouldn’t be the first time her parents promised her something while secretly hoping to never follow through “I would prefer not to,”

 

Twin looks of concern flashed on both their faces. Her mother frowned “Did James do anything to...upset you?”

 

Claire twisted the fabric of her skirt in her hands “He didn’t upset me, but he didn’t do anything to impress me either,”

 

A shadow of disappointment fell across Ophelia’s face “Oh...well then, that’s that,” she glanced towards the other side of the clearing where the two aristocrats were standing “If that’s the case we’ll let Lord Strickler know,”

 

Of all the responses Claire had been expecting this had not been one of them “Really?

 

Javier smiled and placed a hand on her shoulder “Of course, we’re not going to make you court a boy you don’t like. Now why don’t you go wait by the carriage while we tell them,”

 

Claire beamed at her parents “Thank you,”

 

And with that, they headed off in opposite directions, her parents towards Strickler and James and Claire toward the carriages. When she got there she saw that the drivers had dismounted and were standing a ways further up the road, exchanging idle gossip no doubt. Seeing no better options available, Claire planted herself on an errant boulder to wait for her parents.

 

Her outing was over and done, she never had to entertain James’s company ever again, now Claire just wanted to put this whole morning behind her as fast as she could.

 

She sat on the boulder twiddling her thumbs for what felt like ages, but realistically could have only be five or ten minutes.

 

At long last she heard footsteps approach. Claire prepared to rise and then paused. Rapid, unfamiliar footsteps that were most certainly not her parents. Impulsively, Claire ducked underneath her parent’s carriage, cringing as stones and gravel dug into her palms, and held her breath, hoping whoever it was hadn’t seen her yet.

 

Two sets of shoes came into her view, a smaller pair following a larger pair. As they reached the opposite carriage, the larger pair abruptly turned and faced the smaller. A frosty voice broke through the air “I can’t express how thoroughly disappointed I am in you,” 

 

Claire had to stifle a gasp, she knew that voice, it was Lord Strickler. That meant the person he was talking to must be--

 

“Apparently you were so uncharming the young Miss Nuñez couldn’t wait to get away from you,” his voice was as cold and hard as steel, even Claire found herself flinching a little.

 

Taut silence filled the air.

 

“Have you nothing to say for yourself?”

 

When James spoke up his voice was so soft that even from less than three feet away Claire almost couldn’t hear him. Almost.

 

 “I’m sorry…”

 

Claire winced, however he’d acted on their walk, there was absolutely nothing artificial about the meekness in James’s tone.

 

They fell quiet after that, the only sounds the two of them stepping into the carriage and the driver mounting up and getting ready to depart. 

 

Just when Claire thought they would leave without saying another word, Strickler spoke up again “Despite your...lackluster performance, I’ve managed to convince Master and Mistress Nuñez to allow you one more outing with their daughter in a week’s time,” even without seeing him, Claire could practically hear the stern look on Strickler’s face “The fact that we even have a second chance at all is a blessing. Do. Not. Fail me.”

 

“I won’t,” James murmured “I’ll do better next time, I promise,”

 

“I should hope so, I don’t want to be having this conversation again,”

 

After that any further words were lost in the whinnies of the horses and the creaking of the wheels as they pulled away. Leaving Claire to creep out from her hiding spot. Looking down the road she caught a glimpse of the back of Lord Strickler’s carriage just before it rounded the bend and vanished from sight. 

 

As she watched the carriage disappear into the distance, a hot flush of shame burned across her skin. In her indignation about being forced on this outing with James, it had never even crossed Claire’s mind that she wasn’t the only unwilling participant. 

 

Looking back she was ashamed at herself for missing it. James’s apparent lack of personality wasn’t some character flaw, it was part of the mask he forced himself to wear when doing things he clearly had no interest in just to satisfy his father.

 

She should know, Claire had a mask just like that.

 

Her stomach churned with guilt. In hindsight, James's stilted attempts at conversation earlier had been awkward for sure. Which made much more sense considering James probably had no more desire to be there than she did. But it would have been far less awkward if she had done something to help him break the ice. 

 

She recalled the snippy remark she’d given when James asked her if she played. Claire did play, a regular harp, not one made from bones. She was no master at it, but Enrique already loved the lullabies she played for him.

 

Claire stifled a groan into her hands. A perfectly good conversation, right there, and she’d wasted it on a cruel comment.

 

Now James’s father was angry with him, all because she had acted like a brat.

 

The handle of the carriage door dug into her shoulder blades as Claire slumped against it. Lord Strickler had said that he had convinced her parents to have Claire and James go on another walk in a week’s time, and knowing her parents that was probably true. The idea of courting or marriage still made her stomach turn, but she didn’t want to cause James any more problems than she already had.

 

As the heir of Arcadia Abbey and the surrounding estates, Claire had much weighing on her shoulders; duties, responsibilities, her parent’s very high expectations. Being the sole son of an aging lord, James was probably one of the few people who understood exactly what that was like.

 

Just one more walk by the river, it wasn’t as though she was being sized for a wedding dress. Claire could make nice with James for one morning, if only to ensure his father wouldn’t be angry with him again. Eventually Claire could find some way to break things off without casting any of the blame on James. Easy and simple.

 

She heard her parents approach with Lenora and Lawrence following shortly behind, and walked around to the other side of the carriage to greet them.

 

One outing. One pleasant walk with a boy her age. Just to keep their parents happy, that was all.

 

Claire could do it.

 

A fresh wave of guilt washed over her was she recalled the resigned misery in James’s voice when he was being scolded by his father.

 

Claire wasn’t the only one with overbearing parents to please. And if singing James’s praises after their next walk kept him from his father’s ire she would do it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Great news, I'm back on the writing juice! While I'm back in the game I'm still pretty busy with my med tech program, so updates will be sporadic. *Looks at publication date and winces* yeah I've been meaning to update this one for a while but it kept getting away from me, but rest assured this is not a dead fic. Updates are going to be few and far between for the foreseeable future but I'm still plugging away.
> 
> A big chunk of time went into researching how things worked in the regency era. While I am definitely writing this story in a "If historical fact doesn't work with the plot chuck it out" kind of way, but I enjoyed incorporating historical tidbits here and there. One of the things I've learned is that the class people most often associate with Regency era fiction is the gentry. Gentry were old money families that weren't part of the aristocracy. The aristocracy being those entitled to sit in the House of Lords and their families. 
> 
> Congratulations, you just learned more about early twentieth century British socioeconomics than you promised your middle school self you ever would.
> 
> I'm not sure if the two classes ever rubbed elbows in any way, but for the context of this story Claire is part of a gentry family that is loaded with a capitol L, and her parents are trying to leverage that wealth to have Claire marry an aristocrat and gain status as an aristocrat herself. As for why Strickler is trying to arrange Claire and James together...all will be revealed soon.


	3. In which things get worse

Claire eyed the dark clouds on the eastern edge of the sky, willing them to hold back until her walk was done and they were all safely back at home. Getting rained on was the last thing she needed today. On the opposite side of the carriage her parents were also looking up at the sky and fretting. 

 

Ophelia twisted her hands in her lap “Maybe we should turn around…”

 

“No!” Claire said, much louder than she intended “I mean...there’s no need, we should be finished with our walk well before the rain comes,”

 

The weather was something beyond anyone’s ability to control, but that didn’t mean Lord Strickler wouldn’t be angry all over again if they had to cancel.

 

The carriage pulled to a stop at the same trailhead as last week, only this time Lord Strickler and James had arrived first.

 

Claire and her parents descended the carriage and walked over to greet them, Javier glancing up and wincing not so discreetly. The sky above was not promising. Clouds loomed closer, dark and ominous, thunder rumbling in the distance. 

 

Lord Strickler’s smile when he addressed them was tense “Thank you again for this opportunity, shall we send these two on their way before the weather makes a turn for the worse?”

 

Ophelia gave a brusque nod of agreement “That sounds like a lovely idea,”

 

In no time at all Claire and Jim were propped side by side at the start of the path, their parents prepared to follow and serve as chaperones this time around.

 

Claire took a deep breath, regardless of what happened and how she felt about all this, she really needed to try this time. 

 

As the two of them took their first steps down the path, parents following shortly after, Claire willed herself to not look up to see how thick the clouds were and focus on James. 

 

“So….” she began “It looks as though we’ll get at least one final storm before summer is through,”

 

James briefly glanced at her without meeting her eyes “Oh, uh ...yes, it does,” 

 

She waited for him to say more but he didn’t.

 

Claire bit her lip hard enough to taste blood, it looked as though their roles were reversed this time around. 

 

So this was what compupance felt like.

 

As they made their way further down into the woods towards the river, Claire tried to think of another way to try to make conversation with James. She had just been considering asking if he had been to the botanical gardens when she felt a raindrop on her forehead.

 

Both of them were out here against their wills, James was even more stiff and reserved than he was last week, and now it was starting to rain. 

 

Lovely, just lovely.

 

Forcing dismal thoughts aside, Claire tried again “I’ve heard that your father is an explorer, you must have seen some amazing things with him,”

 

James’s arm squirmed beneath her hand “He never...brings me...on his trips,”

 

He fell silent, the only sound the dull roar of the river and the increasing patter of raindrops on the ground. 

 

Biting back a slew of very unladylike words, Claire silently begged the rain to slow or cease. It was to no avail, the sky was getting darker, the rain was getting thicker, and neither showed any sign of easing up in the near future.

 

It was when Claire glanced back and saw Lord Strickler exchanging hushed whispers with her parents that she made up her mind. If the three of them were considering alternate plans then she and James would hardly be penalized for doing the same.

 

Claire slowed to a stop on top of an embankment and gave James a weak smile “The weather appears to be taking a turn for the worse, what do you say we forgo the walk and ask our parents if we can do something else?” 

 

“Oh ...very well,” James pulled his arm away and Claire’s hand fell to her side.

 

They stood in uncomfortable silence, waiting for their parents to catch up so they could discuss other, drier options for getting acquainted. Claire absentmindedly gazed down the steep hill towards the river, wild and frothing from the storm. The weather may have bought her some time, but she and James were still going to have to make nice at some point today if she wanted Lord Strickler to stay happy. Claire was still trying to think of a way to salvage the situation when she felt the ground shift beneath her feet.

 

She had only seconds to remember how very old and worn this path, and by extension the embankment, was. 

 

Old enough to be done in by a heavy storm.

 

The earth slid out from under her. With a screech Claire grabbed at James’s arm in a frenzied attempt to steady herself, but only succeeded in pulling him down after her. She caught a brief glimpse of their parents charging towards them, expressions desperate, then she was falling.

 

The world was a whirl of bumps and stones, rain and dirt, all spinning before her too fast to get a grip on, Claire flailed in a futile attempt to gain a handhold, a foothold, anything to stop or slow down.

 

And then she hit the river.

 

The blur of chaos was quenched in a crash of dark, icy cold water. In a flash of foresight Claire held in her breath as she went under. If she took in water now she was as good as dead. Instantly the current hooked her and dragged Claire down the river, dashing her against rocks and debris as it went. Claire floundered in the churning water, desperate to right herself, but the pull of the river was too strong, everytime she tried to move one way the river jerked her in another, lashing her with waves sharp as knives, Claire didn’t even know which way was up anymore. 

 

Her lungs ached, she needed air but couldn’t find it. Despite being piercingly aware that she was surrounded by black water, the pressure was becoming too great. Unable to hold back any longer, Claire sucked in a mouthful of inky water, setting her chest ablaze and causing stars to flare in her vision. 

 

Claire could hear the blood rushing in her ears as she struggled even more desperately against the raging river. 

 

_ she was going to die here _

 

She floundered in the churning water, jerking, twisting, trashing her arms and legs, anything to try and get closer to the surface. But Claire couldn’t  _ see _ anything, save for muddy water and the burning spots in her eyes, let alone swim in any one direction. Her chest heaved as her body tried to pull in air that simply wasn’t there, lungs filling with even more mud and murk. Claire fought against the river with all her might, but she was growing weaker, vision fading, stark terror being slowly replaced with warm numbness. Despite how hard she struggled Claire was powerless against the uncaring river, mercilessly dragging her further and deeper and--

 

Something tugged her in a new direction. A bright burst of light, and then Claire could see gray skies above her head and feel cold wind on her cheeks.  

 

Cool relief washed over her for a brief instant as she realized that she was going to  _ live. _

 

Then her ribs tightened like a vise. 

 

Claire pitched to the side, her body constricting against her will, forcing out the river water she’d inhaled and replacing it with needle sharp air, racking her entire frame with massive, powerful spasms. The pressure was so great that it forced her to vomit as well. Ripping out the contents of her belly even as more air tore its way in. Tears trickled down her cheeks, ground glass in her chest and acid on her tongue. Coking and gasping all the while.

 

As the last of the water was cleared out and the pain slowly started to recede, harsh barks replaced with softer coughs, Claire came back to herself, and the world around her came back into focus. Breath coming in short, sharp pants, Claire raised a soggy sleeve with a trembling hand to wipe the traces of mud and vomit off her face, glancing around to regain her bearings. Dark clouds and tree branches above her head, sand beneath her legs, and water at her feet. 

 

She was sitting on the river bank, the fine dress she had donned only a few hours previous was now a heavy, wet thing that clung to her skin like a leech, hair pulled from its pins and spun into wild tangles and curls stuck to her neck and forehead, breathing in huge lungfuls of cold, stinging,  _ wonderful  _ air. Somehow miraculously spared a death by drowning.

 

This was good, Claire was out of the river and out of danger of drowning. But  _ how _ had she gotten out? Claire eyed the churning black water, gut twisting as she recalled how it had nearly claimed her life moments ago. From the looks of it there was no way the river would have surrendered her willingly, so then how on earth had she--

 

At twig snapped behind her.

 

Claire whirled around, heartbeat thrumming in her throat, coming face to face with messy black hair and wide blue eyes. It was James, kneeling in the muck just a foot behind her, looking equally wet and bedraggled.

 

The memory of grabbing his arm to try and stop her initial fall flickered behind her eyes. That was right, James had fallen in the river with her.

 

“Are you--” Claire coughed, voice weak and raspy from her near drowning “Are you alright?”

 

He blinked and remained silent for a few seconds, seemingly caught off guard by the question, before murmuring out a reply “Yes...I am well,” 

 

For a moment the two of them just sat there staring at each other, soaked to the bone and caked in mud, the only sounds the roaring of the current and the pounding of the rain. Claire slowly turned away from James back to the still raging river. 

 

Had he...dragged her out? 

 

It was the only possible explanation, but Claire had barely been able to tell which way was up, much less swim. 

 

How had James managed not only to keep himself afloat, but pull her to shore as well?

 

A boom of thunder, far too close for comfort, caused them both to jump and Claire to let out an undignified squeak. Inquiries could come later, for now they had to focus on getting back to civilization. Forcing the multitude of questions she had down, Claire glanced around, noting the thick untamed trees surrounding them. A far cry from the carefully groomed greenery surrounding the town. 

 

It looked as though the river had carried them quite a ways indeed.

 

If she remembered right, the river ran past town, through virgin forest, and curved back up to where it met the main road and went beneath the bridge. Claire got to her feet, cold dirty skirt clinging to badly trembling legs. No reason to panic or become hysterical, all they had to do was follow the river out of the forest and up to the main road. And with any luck they would both be back home, warm and dry, before nightfall.

 

Claire glanced back over to James, he hadn’t moved from his prone position, eyes nervously flickering from side to side. She might not like or even know James, but they were out here together, and she was going to make sure both of them made it back home. 

 

And seeing how James appeared content to huddle on his knees in the riverbank, it was up to Claire to take charge.

 

“Ok, here’s what we’re going to do, follow the river until we reach the bridge on the main road, then we should be able to find our parents no problem,” she extended a hand in James’s direction “Can you stand?”

 

For a moment she wasn’t sure that he heard her, then James slowly lifted up a hand, looking at her uncertainly. Claire reached out and grasped the extended hand, pulling him to his feet. Rain continued to fall around them in sheets, the earth slick and treacherous beneath their feet.  

 

Well it certainly wasn’t getting any drier out here, time to head out “Let’s go,” Claire turned and headed in the downstream direction, hand still clasped to James’s. 

 

They slopped through the muddy forest in silence, all of their focus on putting one foot in front of another. They had to go a ways into the trees to find ground to walk on that wasn’t pure mud and slime, but Claire was very careful to always keep the river within sight. These woods ran wild and deep, and if Claire lost their only point of navigation they may never find it again.

 

How much time passed was impossible to say, the unchanging slate gray sky made discerning the hour impossible. Her soaking, muddy dress weighed on her, making an already unpleasant trek even more miserable. Claire forced herself to ignore these things and concentrate all her energy on continuing to carve a path through the woods, occasionally checking to make sure that her grip on James’s hand was still firm. 

 

It was when a particularly marshy area of the riverbank forced them deeper into the woods than Claire would have preferred that she noticed it. A dark shape, nestled deep within the trees. She paused to get a better look, squinting into the distance. If she wasn’t mistaken it was a man-made building of some kind. But what was it doing out here in the middle of a virgin forest? 

 

James came to a stop right beside her “What’s wrong Miss Nuñez?”

 

Claire kept her eyes locked on the mystery structure in the distance “I think I see some kind of building, we should go check it out,” if there was a building out here that meant people, and people could help them get home.

 

James followed her gaze, when his eyes found what had grabbed her attention he paled by two shades “I....I don’t think that we should,”

 

Well then it was a very good thing that Claire didn’t need his permission now wasn’t it “If there’s a building out here then there might be people that can help us. Stay here if you want, but I’m going to investigate,”

 

With that Claire released James’s hand, turned, and headed off deeper into the woods. She had gone about ten paces when she heard James’s frantic footsteps behind her in pursuit. Ignoring his presence, Claire pressed on, keeping an ear trained on the river. She didn’t have to necessarily  _ see _ the river to navigate, just be able to hear its roar. In case the mystery building turned out to be nothing. 

 

Even as she got closer to the shape, it became no more distinct, veiled in rain and leaves. It took longer to reach than Claire anticipated, but at long last she burst through the trees and saw it directly.

 

It was a massive stone arch, much larger than she originally thought, which would explain why she had seen it from such a distance, standing before her at the center of an almost perfectly circular clearing.

 

No, not an arch, Claire realized as she stepped closer, a bridge. A towering bridge over nothing and leading nowhere. She approached it, fascinated, running her fingers across the dark stone. Even through the rain Claire could see that this bridge was decades old at the very least, centuries most likely. The land beneath the bridge was perfectly flat all around. Perhaps long ago there had been a river or a stream that this bridge had spanned? But for enough time to have passed to leave no trace of any ancient waterway, this bridge must be truly old indeed, an ancient, pagan thing no doubt.

 

She ducked underneath the bridge’s arch, letting out a sigh of pleasure at relief from the unrelenting rain. Based on its age the people who had originally built this bridge were long gone, certainly unavailable to help her or James get back to town, but her skin was prickling with excitement at finding such an interesting, unusual thing.

 

James held back, halfway between the bridge and the tree line, clearly reluctant to step closer, face ashen “Miss Nuñez, we need to leave this place, now,”

 

Claire rolled her eyes, she’d never figured James for the easily nervous, superstitious type, but here he was, afraid of a lump of stone and mortar just because it was old and crumbly looking “There’s nothing to worry about, it's just an old bridge,” she rapped its underside with her knuckles “Sturdy to,”

 

James was not reassured by her words “Please...,” he said in a thin, frightened voice.

 

Were all aristocrats this spineless or was it just James? Well if he wanted to stay out in the rain that was his business, but Claire was going to enjoy her shelter for a little while longer. Ignoring James’s pleading, Claire examined the bridge with her eyes and fingers. It was rough hewn stone from base to tip, covered in moss and pitted with age--

 

No, not pitted, carved.

 

Claire leaned in closer and traced the damp etchings, mesmerized. The rock was engraved with the likeness of countless figures. Some of them looked like people, others decidedly did not, many fell somewhere in between. She stepped back out into the rain to get a better look of the bridge as a whole. 

 

The carvings spanned its entirety, and if Claire wasn’t mistaken, they were all part of a single continuous mural. She placed her hand on the nearest carving, some manner of beast with horns and a tail brandishing a jagged sword, and followed its line of sight with her own eyes.

 

All the figures on the bridge were brandishing weapons of some kind, be it blades, clubs, or even their own claws. All pointing in the direction of the keystone set in the top of the arch. The keystone itself was bare save for a single carving, a solitary blazing eye, gazing out past the bridge and into the forest beyond.

 

Claire looked at the baleful eye for a few moments longer before glancing back towards the carving beneath her hand only to freeze. While the figure’s blade was still pointed towards the keystone, its eyes were fixed on her. 

 

Hadn’t it been looking towards the keystone just a moment ago?

 

She willed the rapid thumping of her heart to slow. This was ridiculous, she was probably just mistaken about where she had originally seen it looking. And besides, the figure was a picture carved into rock, it wasn’t looking at her, it couldn’t  _ look _ at anything. 

 

Claire turned toward the other carvings to assuage her doubts only to have her heart skip a beat. It wasn’t just the one beneath her hand,  _ all _ the figures etched into the bridge were gazing in her direction, if not directly at her. Despite herself Claire’s hands started to shake. 

 

She had to be imagining this ...right?

 

Slowly and with an ever increasing sense of dread, Claire lifted her gaze back up to the keystone. Her blood ran cold as she saw that the eye of the bridge was fixed on her, staring down with all the authority of fate itself.

 

She  _ knew _ it hadn’t been like that moments ago, she had just been remarking to herself how the eye seemed to stare off into the forest.

 

Claire jerked her hand away from the bridge as if it had been burned, a chill crept over her that had nothing to do with the rain. 

 

It was impossible for a stone eye to move or see. But it had done the former, and Claire could feel in her bones that it was doing the later as well.

 

Shaking, she slowly backed away. Superstition or not James was right, they should leave,  _ now _ . Claire forced herself to turn away from the bridge and all its baleful eyes and step towards James, who was still huddled in the clearing midway between the trees and the bridge, ready to join him in heading back to the river and civilization beyond. 

 

She had only gone three steps in his direction when it hit her.

 

Claire couldn’t hear the river anymore. 

 

The bleak realization stopped her in her tracks, heart plummeting like a stone down into the pit of her stomach. This couldn’t be happening, she’d still been able to hear the river when they’d first stepped into the clearing. Or maybe Claire had only been hearing the rain and had convinced herself it was the river.

 

_ or maybe she had heard exactly what the bridge wanted her to hear. _

 

Claire whirled back and forth frantically, raking the perimeter of the clearing with her eyes, desperate to find a sign of hers and James’s passing, or a path, or a landmark, or  _ something _ !

 

It was no use, the trees ringed the clearing in a seamless circle, a sinister island in a vast green ocean. Leaving no trace of where they’d entered or what direction the river was in.

 

Claire stepped closer to James, not even bothering to conceal how badly she was trembling, keenly aware that the two of them were the only people around for miles.

 

Throughout the day Claire had been dropped, waterlogged, and nearly drowned, but it was only now, with the trees pressing in and the bridge’s malevolent eyes on her, that she felt truly afraid.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In this chapter especially, I'm really starting to hint at the magical things happening behind the scenes and hiding in plain sight. Some of you who have read the story that inspired this one, The Salt of the Ocean by imthekingoftheocean, may have a pretty good idea of what's going on. But while some things will line up almost exactly, there are a few huge divergences.


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